


Fantasies Come To Fruition

by afteriwake



Series: For Queen And Country [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Dirty Talk, Eventual Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fingerfucking, Las Vegas, Missions Gone Wrong, Oral Sex, POV Sherlock Holmes, Sex, Sexual Fantasy, Sherlock Holmes and Feelings, Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper Kissing, Sherlock is a Sex God, Sherlock-centric, Undercover, Undercover Molly, Undercover Sherlock, Undercover as a Couple, Vaginal Fingering, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-09
Updated: 2016-03-09
Packaged: 2018-05-25 14:58:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6199510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After an undercover mission for Mycroft in Las Vegas goes wrong, Sherlock and Molly go into hiding. During the case they had to do things that led them to have certain thoughts, certain fantasies, and while they wait to find out whether their ploy to be able to get back to England was successful they decide to act out some of those fantasies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fantasies Come To Fruition

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a while since I wrote anything explicit, but I asked for prompts of a ship, a color and a letter to use for a song title to pull a song lyric from a while back to write explicit drabbles and the one I got from **thefunkydodo** on Tumblr for Sherlolly with the color blue and the letter L (which led me to pick Goldfrapp's “Lovely 2 C U” and the lyrics “ _but there's no noises / the smell of your skin / the glittering lights of hell / i'm missing sin_ ”) led to this. Written for Day 3 of Sherlolly Appreciation Week so I hope you all enjoy!

They should be at the Salon Suite at the Wynn Las Vegas right now, with its 2,261 square feet of adjoining entertaining and bedroom areas, with its powder room and massage room and wet bar, with all its decadent amenities. Even though this was a case he should be dazzling her with the finest foods, the best entertainment, letting her try her luck at the best casinos. She should be enjoying herself.

She should not be in an apartment building on the Strip with him, waiting to see if his ploy is successful and they’ll escape Las Vegas by the skin of their teeth, if they’ll be able to go back home alive and breathing and not in coffins.

His brother had roped the two of them into this case, saying they needed his skills at counting cards, the skills he had started to develop as a child when he had an interest in magic and wanted to learn card tricks, the skills he later honed in university to finance bad habits. Normally it was an inconsequential matter, not something the crown would trifle with, but there was a poker game that was frequented by a man that they needed information from. It was very high stakes, only the most elite players in the world were invited. And the currency was not just money: it was women.

He had been irritated that Mycroft would even suggest him for this mission, but he had been absolutely incensed that he had tried to recruit Molly as well. He was good; he knew his skills were among some of the best in the world, and he knew he was so good he was virtually undetectable. But the key word was _virtually._ There was always the chance there was someone better than him, and he’d be damned if he ran the risk of that someone better being in this game. He wasn’t about to risk putting Molly being in the position where she had to…to… _whore_ herself out for Queen and country.

But, surprisingly, she had agreed.

And then so had he, because he’d be damned if he let her do this with anyone else.

She was whisked off for a full makeover while being briefed, and it wasn’t until just before they were to leave for the States that he saw her again. His jaw had dropped when he saw her again. She had been moderately attractive before, he could admit that. He’d thought of her fleetingly in that regard from time to time, no more than just a whisper of a thought in that regard. But when he saw her before they boarded the private jet to take them to their destination, she was jaw droppingly stunning. Her hair had been chemically straightened and coloured so that it was redder in tone. She had on a navy blue maxi dress that had a floral design on the left side of the bodice and the bottom right of the skirt that was brought in slightly at the waist with a silver clasp, a far cry from the cutesy dresses she usually wore. And as he watched her move towards him, warm smile on her face, he realized he felt something he hadn’t felt towards her: a feeling of intense desire.

He had a sinking suspicion at that very moment that this case was going to be the hardest one he’d ever worked.

He’d managed to hold himself in check throughout their days there, even when they were in close quarters. The other members of his gambling party, as he referred to them, were quite content to play for money and secrets in the beginning, both of which he had in plentiful supply, keeping their women in reserve for their own pleasure. They were all over the women they brought as their chips. And in turn, he and Molly kept up appearance. He did not find it hard to kiss Molly passionately, to let his tongue slip past her teeth when they kissed, to nibble on her lip. She in turn did not find it hard to run her fingers through his hair or to grip his shoulders tightly. As time went on they began to get more bold. He let his hand slide between her legs, palming her core as she moaned into his mouth. She would grind against his lap, causing him to get hard.

And then when the game was over for the night, they would return to their room, take cold showers, go to bed and act as though nothing had happened, even though he knew he’d had to take his hand to his painfully hard erection, stroke himself in the shower and imagine he was pounding into her, that she was screaming his name as he came in her. That her lips were on him, moving up and down the way his hand was moving, sucking each drop of his essence and swallowing it down and then licking her lips afterward before he kissed her and tasted himself. That he had his face between her legs, teasing her with his tongue, bringing her to orgasm over and over again, lapping up every last bit until she begged him for mercy by tugging at the curls on his head, the sharp pain just egging him on more.

And all was going well until the day for using money and secrets for currency was over. He had thought he would be ready for it, but he wasn’t. He had made a careless move, a beginner’s mistake, and another man got Molly. She gave him a wide-eyed look and he just couldn’t let her go. He tried a last ditch effort, a Hail Mary if there ever was one, and he had _thought_ it had worked but the other man just wouldn’t let go of what he thought was rightfully “his.” Then Sherlock had thrown a punch, guns had been drawn, a shot had been fired and all hell had broken loose. The authorities had swept in at that point, American and British alike, but a few of the parties had escaped and word was they were gunning for them both.

And so now they were hiding.

He’d been in situations like this before, during his two years away. He had contacts in Vegas, contacts that were still good, and he was looking to see if he could put his alias of Albert Harrison to rest, put him “with the fishes.” It helped to have one or two acquaintances with mob connections, have another few contacts with ties to the crime labs here. If it all worked out, there would be reports that two bodies would be found matching his and Molly’s description and then, once the word had spread, they could be smuggled to San Diego via automobile and then fly out of Lindbergh Field to London on a nonstop commercial flight in business class.

Molly stood by the window. Already the ginger hair was gone; she was a brunette now, and he had to admit that colour suited her as well, though he missed the red. It had given her a bit of spark. The flashy clothes were gone, too, and while she wasn’t back in the comforting and comfortable button down shirts and khaki trousers he knew so well from back home, the white cotton T-shirt and dark denim trousers looked more familiar on her. He moved over to her, running a hand through his much shorter hair. They’d taken a pair of scissors to it, cutting off most of the curls. It felt strange, to be quite honest. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

“I’m not,” she said, turning to face him. They were close enough to the garish neon of the Strip that it reflected on her face. She seemed tense, but still less tense than she had been before. He never wanted to see her as tense as she had been in the penthouse suite where the poker game had been being played, when he had lost the hand. That was a look that would be etched in his memory for the rest of his life, he wagered. She reached over and gently caressed his face. “You got us out of there. You’re working on getting us home. It’s something.”

“But if I can’t, it will be my fault we’re dead,” he said.

“Well, I agreed to take this mission,” she said, dropping her hand as she shrugged. “Your brother told me how dangerous it would be. I know I could lose my life in this.” She turned away from him and faced the window again. “Did they at least get the man he wanted us to get?”

Sherlock nodded. “Yes.”

“Then whatever happens to us, it was worth it.”

He was quiet for a moment. No, really, it wasn’t, he thought to himself. If they died because of his gaffe then it wasn’t worth it because she didn’t _know_. She didn’t know what she truly meant to him, she didn’t know her importance, and she didn’t know her worth. Yes, his brother had the man he wanted them to go after but that wasn’t the point. That didn’t matter.

If they died, none of it would matter because Molly Hooper wouldn’t know that he needed her, wanted her, loved her.

And he was too chicken shit to tell her.

He sighed slightly and turned away. “I suppose we should get some sleep,” he said. “We’ll know by midnight if it’s safe to leave, and then we have a long drive to San Diego.”

“All right,” she said. She moved in the same direction he did, and after a moment she reached out to touch his shoulder. “Sherlock?”

He stopped and turned to look back at her. “Yes?”

“If… _when_ we get home…what’s going to happen between us?”

He blinked at that. “What do you mean?” he asked.

She removed her hand from his shoulder. “I thought…I thought that I could shelve things. The things I did at the games. The things I did to you. But I can’t. I dream about you, about what I did to you, what you did to me. About…what I want you to do to me. When I’m alone I touch myself, and I imagine it’s you touching me.” Even in the dim light he could see her flush at her own words, and what she was saying and her reaction made him start to grow hard. God, even after all this, she wanted him. It hadn’t all been an act on her part.

“What do you think about me doing to you?” he asked, taking a step closer to her.

“I think about you undressing me,” she said. “I think about your hands on my body, caressing my skin. I think about your lips kissing me and your body pressing close. I imagine you tasting every inch of my skin, even areas that…well…” Her blush deepened. “And then I imagine you taking me and me shouting your name. And that’s just some of it. I mean…”

He closed the gap between them and angled his head to press his lips to hers. He kissed her slowly, though he wanted to be greedy about it, backing them against the wall next to the window. She responded, kissing him back, unsure for just a moment before opening her mouth to him. He moved his hands to her waist and then slipped his hands under the hem of her shirt, hooking it under his thumbs and sliding his hands along her skin, enjoying the feel of her. When he got it up high enough he pulled away from the kiss and pulled it off of her, tossing it away. Instead of going back to her lips he moved his own lips to her neck and his hand back to her waist, pulling her against him before sliding his palms up her spine. He applied teeth to her neck, grazing her skin, and she moaned into his ear as he began to undo the clasp of her bra.

It took him a moment to get it undone, but when he had, he moved his hands to begin peeling away the straps, one shoulder at a time, he let his lips trail kisses along her neck and clavicle and down onto her shoulders before moving to her chest. He pulled away just slightly to pull the front of the bra away, leaving her breasts exposed. They were creamy white with pert rosy nipples, and he ducked his head down and took one in his mouth, rolling it around with his tongue. She gasped and clutched his hair with her hands, digging her nails into his scalp. “Oh my God,” she breathed out when he bit down lightly. The sharp pain he felt sent a twitch through his cock and he almost wasn’t sure he could make her fantasy come true before he wanted to find his own release.

After a moment he moved his mouth to her other breast, repeating his actions there as she whimpered and moaned. The sounds were like music to his ears, and after a moment he moved a hand to the button of her trousers and undid it, then lowered the zipper. He quickly worked the trousers down off her hips a bit and she realized what he was going to do because she spread her legs a bit, widening her stance. After a moment he slipped his hand inside her knickers, palming her. He hadn’t gone that far at the poker games, always staying on the outside of her knickers, but he could feel her soaking through the flimsy scraps of lace. But feeling the dampness this closely was another matter. After a moment he slipped a finger inside her, and then a second, slowly easing them in and out. She gave another moan at that and he almost wanted to open his own trousers and use his other hand to work on himself in time with finger fucking her.

“Did I do this to you?” he asked when he pulled away from her breast, beginning to make his way lower.

“N…no,” she said, her voice catching slightly.

“Do you like it?” he asked.

“God yes,” she said.

He began to kneel down and kiss his way lower, taking his time. He could smell her and it was driving him mad. Finally he couldn’t wait. He removed his hand and pushed her trousers down to her ankles, and she stepped out of one side before kicking them to the side. Then he hooked his fingers in the waistband of her knickers and slowly lowered those as well, and once they were around her ankles she stepped out of them and he tossed them to the side. He looked up at her for a moment and saw her hands were on her breasts and her chest was heaving, and he settled his hands on her hips before burrying his face between her thighs and giving her one long lick, getting a hiss of pleasure from her. He felt her hand move to his hair as he began to lap at her essence, and she used her grip to keep him close as he teased her with his tongue. She tasted every bit as good as he had imagined, and he added his fingers again when he felt her legs begin the quiver.

“Oh my,” she said, her grip tightening. “Sherlock…oh yes…please…” He quickened the pace of his fingers plunging in and out of her as he used his tongue to tease her clit. “Oh, God, Sherlock!” And then he could feel her tighten around his fingers and his thighs clench and there was an exultant shout on her lips, and he didn’t stop until she slumped slightly in the afterglow of her release. “That was amazing,” she said when he pulled away. “I should return the favour.”

“You should,” he said.

She sank down to her knees and kissed him. She didn’t seem to care that she could taste herself on his lips. She ground against his almost painful erection for a moment. “You’re a bit overdressed,” she replied.

“I do seem to be,” he said with a nod.

“We should fix that,” she replied. She reached for the top button on his shirt and began undoing it. “Tell me, what are some of your fantasies?”

“There are far too many flitting about in my head than we can do tonight,” he said. “We’ll have to do more of them when we return home.”

She gave him a look that said she was glad he had hope they would get out of the situation alive, and the kiss she gave him as she continued to unbutton his shirt was as tender as it was passionate. “Well then, I suppose we’ll have to default to another one of mine, then,” she murmured against his lips.

“I suppose we will,” he replied, settling his hands on her waist. “Perhaps something where you’re on top?”

“I believe that can be arranged,” she replied before kissing him again and slowly pushing him back to the floor. He had the feeling that, no matter what the rest of the evening or the rest of their lives might entail, there would be nothing in his life that would top what had just happened.

For now, anyway.


End file.
